


Thorns never did prick her

by amjoensson



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Sansa-centric, Season/Series 06 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 06:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11640504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amjoensson/pseuds/amjoensson
Summary: A short take on how Sansa receives word of the death of Margaery Tyrell.





	Thorns never did prick her

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the first thing I have written in years. It was prompted by me seeing a tumblr post asking whether or not people thought Sansa knew that Margaery was dead. It is not proofed so all mistakes are mine and I hope you can bear with me. 
> 
> At first I was thinking of writing a much longer story but I decided against it, however if anyone has an interest in reading a much more detailed version I think I could write it, I was just really excited to be writing again and this is how it came out.
> 
> I am also sorry for writing it, it's a bit sad! Sorry if I made you sad, I certainly made myself sad.

The raven arrived early in the morning. Winterfell was quiet and the approach of winter had given it an eerie feeling of abandon. Sansa Stark was standing on the battlements looking out over a place she was once again calling home, even though everything that had made it home was gone. Her father, her mother, her siblings. The only link to her childhood here now was Jon, the new King in the North. The ravens that came to Winterfell were meant for him. Enemies, friends, and everyone in between sent ravens to the King, but this raven came without offers of alliances and demands of giving up the throne. 

 

It carried a message that was not meant for the eyes of a king, but rather for the eyes of a young she-wolf.

 

The message was one of ill tidings. It was a bearer of grief shared and of the end of something that might have been. The message had been written for a girl who no longer was. A lone wolf among a pack of lions unaccustomed to playing the game of thrones written by someone who had played it for too long and in the end lost too much. 

 

The Queen of Thornes had felt like she had to be the one to tell Sansa Stark of the rose plucked before her time by a lioness armed with a heart of steel. Oleanna Tyrell had lost everything, but she knew that the game she had been playing had meant a loss for Sansa as well. 

 

The old woman saw a lot of things, she was aware of the love her grand-daughter had held for the kind and fragile Stark girl and how it was returned. She had been around long enough to recognise that while love was love, the world that they inhabited would forever hinder the two of them from being together. Even more so the path that the Tyrells were set on was going to break them apart and Oleanna knew that Margaery had not imagined that she would fall in love with a girl without prospects and family. Not that it would have mattered. She was going to be the people’s queen and in Westeros that meant marrying a king. It would give her and the Tyrells power and influence that had been unthinkable. It was a worthy goal but in the end Margaery Tyrell became a people’s queen who no one would mourn. 

 

Not even Sansa would mourn the queen. She had not know queen Margaery. Instead the message forced her to remember stolen kisses, whispers in the night and smiles. Smiles she had given freely and with all her heart to a girl who had saved her. A girl raised to charm and then prick you much like a rose, growing stronger. Sansa had never felt the prick, despite the fact that Margaery, with her ambition, would have gained from drawing her blood at some point. With her Margaery had been as soft and as gentle as a rose petal. These were memories she had forced herself to leave behind when she had left King’s Landing. Memories Sansa had hoped she would one day be able to reclaim, together with the woman they all connected to. Now that was impossible, because Margaery Tyrell was gone.

 

Gone were futures spoken off in the dark of the night. Dreams that were rose-tinted and soft like the lips that had spoken them. Lips that had both kissed away tears and filled Sansa with hope. Soft limbs that had draped over hers, keeping her warm, keeping her safe. In the night it had all been real and their fantasies were palpable. Sansa would have sworn that she could feel the grass of Highgarden under her feet, Margaery’s hand in hers and the sun shining on her face. The two of them far away from intrigue and politics. 

 

Margaery had once told her that women in their position must make the best of their circumstances and Sansa had tried. She had married a Lannister who had treated her fairly and she had finally been able to escape King’s Landing. Now she was finally back where she belonged. She was a Stark and winter was coming.

 

Margaery had played a much higher game – the girl who wanted to be queen. She wanted the power to reclaim her life and build her own future. A future that she, in the middle of the night, again and again promised to Sansa.

 

The morning light had however always brought them back to the harsh reality. 

 

Back then the loss of the woman she loved would have torn her apart but as Sansa read the message the overwhelming pain she felt was a fire. However it no longer consumed her, as it had once done, but rather set her ablaze. She had survived and played the game, she had mastered it and she was now iron-clad. Wearing her scars below the surface rather than on it. Her queen may have fallen but rather than falling with her, Sansa would play the game and she had a queen of her own to take down. Winter was upon them and wolves weather it better than lions.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in two hours so I'm sorry if it is not coherent! Constructive criticism is more than welcome!


End file.
